Into the Light (The Light, #1)(40)

Elizabeth’s arms wrapped around my shoulders and pulled me toward her. “You are. You were, and you’ll get better again. I won’t say anything, but you should.”

“What?” I pulled away and sat straight.

“Our husbands can’t be with us all the time. If we’re honest about our transgressions when they’re away, it shows them that we are trustworthy.”

Prideful and vulgar?

More tears joined the stream. “No, I’m supposed to be at service tonight. I don’t want Jacob upset with me. I need him. If I tell him, he’ll be angry.”

“He won’t be upset. However, if he thinks your behavior warrants punishment, he’ll handle it. Besides, other than walking you to your seat, he can’t be with you at service.”

“He can’t?” I asked.

“No, he sits with the Assemblymen. As wives of the Assembly, we sit together just behind the Commission wives.”

“So that’s why Father Gabriel told you to assist me? You’ll be with me?”

“With Luke’s permission I will. So will Raquel. I believe Brother Benjamin will also approve.”

I reached out and patted her leg. The material of her jeans made me think. “You’re wearing jeans?”

“I am.” She giggled. “That’s a subject change.”

“I guess it is. Why do I have a skirt?”

“Well, you have jeans too, if that’s what you’re asking. I’ve seen you wear them. I’d guess that Brother Jacob thought a skirt would be easier with your cast.” Oh, that makes sense. “And we all wear dresses or skirts to service, even in this cold weather,” she added. “Most of us are more casual for evening prayer. There’re some who feel the need to always be dressed up. I’m sure you’ve noticed the high heels. I mean, we wear most everything we did in the dark, within reason. All the fashions in our store are approved first by the Commission. Our bodies are our temples, and we don’t share that with anyone but our husbands.”

She stood and continued, “With as cold as it’s been, whether we’re at evening prayer or our jobs, most women of The Light wear jeans and warm boots. Truthfully, modesty is dictated by Father Gabriel, but the particulars are up to our husbands. You wore jeans and warm boots before. I don’t know why that would change.”

I nodded. Of course it is up to him. Everything seems to be up to my husband.

“Sara, it’s still early in the afternoon. Service isn’t until seven. I’ll speak with Luke about assisting you, and he’ll talk to Jacob.”

Suddenly the memory of what Sister Lilith had said about the Assembly wives came back. “Elizabeth?”

“What?”

“Are you appalled by me?”

“What? No!”

“Do the other wives of the Assembly hate me?”

“Of course not. Father Gabriel doesn’t preach hate.” She wrapped her arms around me and hugged. “We’re all sisters.”

I smiled a sad smile. “Thank you.”

“As long as Luke approves, I won’t leave your side. Who knows? Maybe you’ll recognize the voices.”

I nodded.

Maybe?



As my afternoon progressed, my anxiety grew. Though I listened to Father Gabriel’s recordings, I couldn’t concentrate. The words prideful and vulgar kept repeating in my mind.

How is it that it was my friend who upset me—not Sister Lilith, not Jacob, but my friend?

Maybe it was because I cared what Elizabeth thought. I cared about her friendship.

Will she decide she doesn’t want to be friends any longer if I can’t remember the past, if I’m too different? What will happen if I do as she suggests and confess to Jacob? Don’t we have enough happening, with going to service?

Remembering the running, I tried to pace the confines of my room. Though the cast made my left leg longer than my right, causing an uneven gait that aggravated my rib, I continued to move. Freedom was more important than the pain. After so long in my bed, I relished the ability to stand, walk, and sit of my own accord. Yet with each minute I waited for Jacob, my apprehension of the unknown grew. I knew this room and was familiar with it. I’d counted the steps from my bed to the wall, my bed to the bathroom, and my bed to . . . anywhere within these four walls. I knew what was expected of me here.

What will happen out there, at service? What will happen when Jacob returns?

I rolled my head and shoulders, trying to relieve the tight muscles. My mind wanted to run, yet my body could hardly handle the pacing. Obviously my strength wasn’t up to par. After a few laps, I’d sit, rest, and then try it again. During my walks I stopped at the closet multiple times to see my clothes. Of course I couldn’t see. I could touch and feel. Elizabeth could be right, I might have jeans at home, but I didn’t here. Mostly everything I touched was soft and long—nightgowns, I assumed. I found the skirt and sweater she’d mentioned. Now I wondered about a bra. I hadn’t worn one since I’d awakened. It was one more thing to add to my stress.

If saying shit is vulgar, what will happen if I go to service without a bra?

Perhaps it was from my exercise, or maybe an escape mechanism, but as the hours passed, tiredness overcame me, and I decided to nap. That was where I was, in a dream world, when Jacob finally returned. Though his entering woke me, I didn’t move. Remembering my transgressions, I lay still listening to his footsteps.